


Getaway

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A world where season 14 ended far more happily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cabin Fic, Castiel Molts, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Domestic Fluff, Grace tentacles, Handyman Dean Winchester, Huddling For Warmth, Kissing, M/M, Mates, Nearly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Post-Season/Series 14, Protective Dean Winchester, Rimming, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Thunderstorms, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wingfic, deancastropefest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 13:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Dean finally feels like he can catch a break. Michael's gone, Cas is safe, Sam and Jack are holding down the fort—everything is a-okay. So Dean decides to head up to Donna's cabin for some alone time and to do some much needed repairs, but soon Cas turns up and he brings problems of his own. For some reason, Cas is experiencing some very human (and angelic) needs.





	1. Me time

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow! It feels good to finally be posting this story as I've been sitting on it for several months ^_^;
> 
> Thanks to deliciousirony for their fantastic art to go with my story. [You can view their masterpost here](https://delicious-irony.tumblr.com/post/184672766993/storm).
> 
> And thank you to [majesticduxk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk) for being a wonderful beta.
> 
> This story was written before I knew what was going to happen in s14 of the show and is a waaaaaaaaay more optimistic resolution to any Supernatural season you could hope for.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :D

“It’s just for a while.” Dean folded his arms across his chest. He’d expected some push back from Sam, but not quite this much.

“Dean-”

“I’m going to be at Donna’s cabin, cross my heart. Not going on a trip somewhere else. Look, Michael’s out, Cas is safe—we’re all safe. I just need some time to myself and then I’ll be back and we can go find some assholes to kill.” Dean turned and picked up the green cooler he’d packed up with some supplies. Then he stuffed a thermos of coffee under his arm. It felt weird to be up this early, but he wanted to get to the outskirts of Hibbing before midnight.

Turning around, there was no escaping Sam’s doubtful look. Dean couldn’t blame Sam for thinking this wasn’t a great idea. Their history of asking each other for space wasn’t exactly filled with any stellar examples. But Dean didn’t want to just throw himself straight into hunting again, now that his head was free. He wanted a chance to do some of the things he enjoyed.

The cabin needed some work after all, so he’d do that for Donna. Maybe make a few improvements here and there. And then get some fishing in when it looked like he might get a bite. He wouldn’t be far from Donna in case anything happened. He just wanted the chance to be alone for a while. For the first time in a long time. _I’ll have my cell_ , Dean started out the kitchen heading towards the garage and the Impala, which was already filled with the other things he needed for his trip.

Sam trailed behind Dean like a lost puppy. “But what if something happens?”

“Literally not a million miles away. And I’ve got my cell,” Dean called over his shoulder. The two of them walked in silence for a moment except for the thud of their boots across the Bunker’s hard floors.

“But-”

Dean wheeled around, the garage behind him and jabbed a finger towards Sam’s chest. “I have just spent the better part of a year in carbonite. I want some ‘me time’.”

Sam’s eyes did that thing they do and Dean tried not to cave in. No matter what amount of puppy eyes Sam gave him, Dean was heading out to the cabin for a few weeks and going to chill the hell out. There’d be some beers, the odd finger of whiskey, but Dean was determined to give himself the chance to chill in a way he probably hadn’t since those weeks with Cassie a million years ago.

Dean turned around and continued towards the waiting Impala. He opened the side passenger door and put the cooler in the foot well. He slid the thermos in a holder. Standing up straight, Dean looked to Sam and gave him a gentle smile. “I ain’t running off to build some coffin or to drown myself in booze and girls. This is me going somewhere reachable, fixing up Donna’s cabin, fishing, drinking a bit and, hell, finding some Zen. Get me?”

Sam finally nodded. He smiled back. “Okay, okay. I just… you know...”

“Worry.” Dean closed the passenger door.

Sam nodded. “What do you want me to tell Cas? Or Jack?”

Dean’s stomach tensed a little at the mention of Cas. “The truth. Look, if something happens and you guys really need me—sure crash my vacation. But you might wanna consider some ‘me time’ as well, y’know? I know you got a big ass pile of books you’ve been holding off on reading.”

Sam laughed and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I still haven’t read _A Dance with Dragons_.”

“There you go. Get some reading in. Eat some kale.” Dean headed around to the driver’s door, but before he could open it, he was pulled into a bone crushing Sasquatch hug. “Mmmpf!”

Sam finally let go. “Okay, have fun.”

“Thanks… and don’t touch my stuff.”

Sam laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Right, well I’ll know if you do.”

Sam shook his head, a grin on his face. “Get out of here.”

Dean winked and got in the car.

***

A cassette of Led Zeppelin’s _III_ was playing and Dean was drumming his fingers along on the steering wheel, the motion automatic. The tape had played through three times on both sides already. It was a pleasant May afternoon and the sky was blue with hardly a cloud in the sky. Dean had the window down while he drove, sticking to the limit, because there was no world ending event for him to dash off to.

His cell had been blissfully quiet all day. Just him, the road, tunes, good coffee for once, and some of the best sandwiches he’d made in an age. He’d only made the odd stop to relieve himself, but already he’d been enjoying the space. The opportunity to just not think. To look after his needs.

During the odd moment, doubt would creep across and Dean would have to push it back. Remind himself he was allowed this indulgence. He wasn’t going to be completely radio silent—he’d send Sam a text once he was at the cabin. But he wasn’t going to do more than the odd status update and call.

A stop in Hibbing and Dean had a late dinner with Donna, picking up a few supplies from a grocery store on the way. It was a different experience to that hastily eaten burger Dean had had with his friend so many months ago, an archangel riding around inside his head, screaming and angling to ruin him.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need,” Donna had said, a firm hug and an understanding smile following. “There should be enough of what you need to get started on fixin’ the place up. But if there’s anything you need—call.”

By the time Dean reached the cabin, it was pushing 10pm. He got his things out of the Impala, the groceries and some beers, and headed on in. Checking over what would needed to be done could wait until there was daylight again.

Dean managed a text to Sam as he sat on the edge of the cabin’s only bed. A majestic king with welcoming pillows and a light comforter. The place was looking freshly dusted, and Dean suspected Donna had been up to just make sure the place was ready for him.

He looked at his cell and his list of text conversations, thumb hovering over Castiel’s name. Finally he clicked on it and started typing a text to him.

 _ **Dean**_ : Hey, dunno if Sam talked to you yet, but I’m staying at Donna’s cabin for a few weeks or so.

He hit send.


	2. This is not The Money Pit

“Oh god,” Dean groaned as the chirping and calls of the dawn chorus woke him up way earlier than he was use to, even when he and Sam were out on the road. They simply didn’t get this in the Bunker, and unless someone had an alarm set on their cell or someone called there was a real chance of oversleeping.

Dean smushed his face into his pillows, refusing to believe that any living thing would want to be up this early. And then he remembered how early Sam would sometimes go for runs. Or how Cas would always look completely awake and with it at nearly all times. _Except for that one time he was human_ , Dean thought guiltily. Shoving that thought aside, Dean clawed his way out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

Dean still didn’t know quite how much work needed to be done, there was a list, but Dean knew Donna couldn’t have thought of everything. _I bet the roof needs some TLC. Winter was hard. Bet no one’s done much with the place since Donna split with her ex husband._ Dean tried not to think about whether Bobby from the other world would have, while staying at the cabin with Mary. Dean reached the bathroom and stretched. He was sure it would take time to catalog everything.

Relieving himself first, Dean hopped in the shower and appreciated that at least the plumbing in the cabin didn’t need work—the water pressure was excellent. Hot streams of water pummeled against his skin, the heat working its way into all the aches and pains he always wore these days. Just because he could still throw a punch didn’t mean that the rest of him was quite as together as it used to be.

He relished his time under the water, closing his eyes as it soothed him. His thoughts started to drift and without bidding, Castiel’s piercing blue eyes were conjured. Within Dean’s mind’s eye, his gaze drifted to Castiel’s chapped pink lips, something that Dean spent a lot of time trying to ignore when he was around the angel. A blush bloomed on skin already tinted red from the surrounding heat, and Dean slammed his eyes open.

“Nope, don’t start that, Winchester. Don’t need to complicate having a shower.” _With what, feelings that have been simmering along for a lifetime? Should have said something when you kicked the Empty’s ass…_ piped up a voice at the back of Dean’s head, and he shoved that voice away too, trying not to think.

Blanking out his mind, Dean finished cleaning himself and got out the shower. Ten minutes later he was dried and dressed in the usual shirt and t-shirt combo, with a pair of jeans he could move in and boots, and heading to the kitchen for coffee and something to eat. _Maybe eggs and bacon?_ He actually treated himself to half a grapefruit, which he would not be telling Sam about in a million years. There was no way he was going to acknowledge the simple fact that he needed to start looking after himself better. Or that he only had two beers the night before instead of the usual six.

Dean cleaned the dishes and found the tool belt he’d brought over with him. He secured it over his hips, grabbed an old Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, to keep the sweat and the creeping sun out of his eyes, and headed out into the quickly warming morning. There was a long list of things that Donna had asked him to looked into, written down somewhere in the cabin, but carefully memorized by Dean.

The cabin’s exterior wood needed to be re-stained, with one wall needing entire slats replaced. He’d need to check behind those ones to make sure that at least water hadn’t gone into the cabin over the course of their deterioration. The windows and their shutters needed fixing up. Then there were the screens.

Finding a ladder, Dean climbed up to check the pitched roof. Missing shingles here and there showed that the winter storms had likely had a fair go at the place. A wide section of the roof needed to be redone. _I’ll need to get Donna to order in some new shingles_ , Dean added to a separate mental list in his head. He hadn’t seen any water damage inside the cabin the previous night, but he decided now that he knew where the problem areas were outside, it was time to check if the damage had gone further.

Dean went inside, pulling off his baseball cap and wiping away the sweat from his brow that had gathered from going up and down the ladder in the blazing sun. He started for the wall where the slats were looking less than healthy on the exterior, grabbing his flashlight from his tool belt and using its beam to check the interior wall more closely than the room’s meager light would enable.

Touching a hand to the wall he felt for any dampness or any chill that would indicate water had been getting in. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when the wall didn’t appear to be that deeply compromised. Water had not made it past the insulation. Working off the exterior wood would offer another check that the cabin was reasonably sound.

“Immigrant Song” started playing suddenly from somewhere. It took a moment and then Dean realized it was his cell back out in the kitchen. He headed through the cabin and picked it off the kitchen table. Sam’s name was displayed on the caller ID.

“C’mon, it’s been less than a day,” Dean griped in answer as he picked up the call.

“For- I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t something important,” Sam replied in agitation.

“Spit it out then.”

“Cas is missing.”

Dean closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Missing?”

“He and Jack came home yesterday about a few hours after you left. Cas was acting a bit weird most of the day. Kinda twitchy. And this morning he’s gone without a note or anything,” Sam said.

“How’s this… different to Cas being Cas again?”

“I… there was something off about him. Like something wasn’t quite right.”

“Cas has a right to act a bit weird. It’s pretty much his thing.”

There was a knock from the cabin’s front porch and Dean turned in its direction. The door was completely solid wood, so he couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Someone’s at the door,” Dean whispered into his cell. He picked up his gun from the kitchen table, having left it there in favor of his tool belt earlier.

He switched his cell to his left hand and then left shoulder crook, and took the safety off the gun. Each boot step was slow and deliberate, making sure the boards didn’t creak. Dean approached the porch door with care, gun ready, and then pulled it open.

“Cas?” Dean asked dumbly, seeing the angel standing there on the porch. The late morning light was behind him, making a halo around his head. Castiel’s trench coat looked more wrinkled than usual. His tie just that bit more askew.

“Hello, Dean.”


	3. Travel worn

Sunlight filtered through the windows, dowsing the cabin’s interior in a warm sleepy glow. The grip of summer teased at the air inside, making Dean sweat a little down his back. He’d taken his shirt off in attempt to keep cool and opened a few windows, but his t-shirt was clinging to his back in the most unappealing way.

Sat at the kitchen table, Dean had gotten a bottle of water for himself and made Cas a cup of strong black coffee—just the way he liked it when he wanted to pretend at being human. Cas hadn’t said much since Dean had let him in, but Dean was willing to wait. He studied Cas as he sat opposite him, took in his extra rumpled appearance, the way his hair was more messed than usual, the tautness to his face that wasn’t usually there making his lips thin.

Dean wasn’t an expert on angel physiology, but if he had to make a guess, Cas looked like he was in pain. _But there aren’t any visible wounds. No blood or cuts. Nothing_ , Dean pondered as he analyzed Cas again.

There was still that one important question though…

“Whatcha doing here?” Dean asked, playing with the water bottle between his hands.

Cas looked up, meeting Dean’s gaze. Those blue eyes looked like deep welcoming pools that Dean could lose himself in—he shifted awkwardly in his seat and tried to ignore such thoughts. It was not the time, the place or the person.

“I… I….” Cas tried, voice a little rougher than usual. “I… thought you could use some company.”

A smile crossed Dean’s lips and he shook his head in amusement. “Sam explain to you why I’d headed out here right?”

Cas pursed his lips and nodded. He brought his coffee closer and cupped his hands around it. Dean watched Cas inhale the aroma of the coffee.

“Why are you really here?”

Cas licked his lips and picked up the coffee, taking a sip before setting it back down. He shifted in his seat, looking like he was finding it difficult to get comfortable. Dean frowned in concern—it was all very un-Cas like behavior.

Suddenly the hairs on Dean’s arms raised up and the ones his head tried to, like there was a huge charge of electricity in the air. Castiel’s hair started to stand on end rather than just stick up messily. A booming crack sounded overhead and a flash of lightning lit up the cabin as the sky suddenly darkened and the heavens opened.

“Fuck!” Dean yelled, trying not to wince as he rushed to the open windows and closed them to stop the rain from getting in. _Where the hell has this storm come in from?_ Dean wondered as he dashed around.

The temperature had dropped to something more like autumn than the start of summer. He picked up his cell as he sat back opposite Cas again and checked the weather app. There was nothing about this sudden storm.

“I can go, if you want me to,” Cas started.

Another spark of lightning shot across the sky outside followed by a long roll of thunder. There was no way on Earth that Dean was letting Cas go out into weather like this. He might be able to drive these days, but even Dean would be hard pushed to chance this kind of downpour in Baby.

“No, you can stay, Cas.” Dean got up and stood beside Cas. Dean clamped down a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. He winced, like Dean had touched an injury or wound. “Dude, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, gently taking his hand away, worried he might cause Cas more pain.

“Nothing is wrong. I just needed a change of scenery. Like you,” Cas said, but Dean wasn’t convinced.

Something was up. He’d just have to keep an eye on Cas and hope he came out with the truth sooner rather than later. _Or before anyone dies, because I’m kind of sick of that_ , Dean thought as their encounter with the Empty flashed before him for a brief moment.

Dean stood back and took another look at Cas. Not only did he look kind of disheveled, his clothes were dirty. Cas never went around looking unkempt if he hadn’t been in some huge fight.

“Hey… do you wanna borrow some clothes? I can put your stuff in the washing machine.”

Cas looked down at his outfit a grimace flashing across his face. “Hmm, perhaps my clothes do need some attention. Yes, I’d like to borrow some clothes.” A small smile crossed Castiel’s mouth. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put some more coffee on,” Dean asked as a shiver ran down his spine. The heat of the May day had disappeared as soon as the rain had appeared and the warmth of the day was gone.

Dean cleaned up a little in the bathroom and then changed his t-shirt, putting another shirt on. Then he found an old zip-up hoodie of his own to pull on. He’d have to get a fire going at the rate the temperature was dropping. Once he was dressed, he pulled out a spare t-shirt (an old Zeppelin band one) and an old Dallas Cowboys sweater, and some worn but comfy jeans, underwear and socks for Cas. Dean laid the items out on the bed for Cas and then headed downstairs, his own dirty washing in tow.

“Head on up,” Dean said, moving towards the utility room, “I put some clothes out on the bed for you.”

“Thank you.” Cas stepped away from the now gurgling coffee maker, slowly, like it was taking a lot of effort.

“Don’t forget to bring your laundry down when you’re done,” Dean called.

A short time later, Cas was back downstairs, changed and Dean could feel his face heating up every time he glanced at Cas. There was just something about seeing Cas in his clothes. It was something he hadn’t really felt since Lisa occasionally stole a shirt of his. Dean’s stomach fluttered and a possessive desire simmered low inside of him.

_Cas is not interested in that, simmer down Winchester! Down!_ Dean mentally slapped himself.

“Here,” Cas said, handing his clothes to Dean in the utility room. Their hands brushed for a brief second, sending sparks through Dean’s body. He struggled to keep his breathing under control.

“T-thanks.” Dean took the clothes and immediately turned away. Sure he’d had felt the odd something for Cas, never letting it go that far. But apparently being imprisoned in his own body for months and then spending time alone with Cas were a heady concoction that were threatening to open up years of sexual repression.

“Every thing's going to be fine,” Dean tried to reassure himself as he loaded up the washing machine. “Cas is just gonna stick by for a couple of days. The fact that you haven’t gotten laid in forever, and have had maybe the tiniest of crushes for ten years means nothing. He’s your friend. You’ve hung out before, right…?”

And then Dean realized he’d never just hung out with Cas before. Not just chilled without the jaws of an apocalypse snapping at their heels.

“Everything… will be fine,” Dean whispered, still trying to convince himself as he switched the machine on.


	4. The human condition

Thunder rumbled overhead again and Dean grimaced. Sure, put him in a tunnel filled with extra deadly vampires, zero dead man’s blood, and one machete—Dean would crack his shoulders and dance.

But a thunderstorm that doesn’t want to move on? Dean’s nerves would slowly fray, making him twitchy and irritable. If Sam ever pushed him on it, Dean would ignore him and change the subject. Not because he was embarrassed, but because the source of his discomfort happened when Sam was at Stanford and Dean really did not want to guilt trip Sam into thinking he should have been there when Dean faced up against the spirit of a storm chaser who had been killing loggers in Wyoming.

Who knew a vengeful spirit could draw in that much power? Dean knew.

“Dean, are you okay?” Castiel asked from his end of the couch. He had a book on local flora and fauna in his hands.

Dean shook himself and gave Castiel a brave smile. The storm had not let up during the past two hours. Dean had tried to read a copy of _Assassin’s Apprentice_ , by Robin Hobb, which Sam had loaned him after saying it was a million times better than George R.R. Martin’s magnum opus. But with the storm raging overhead, Dean had so far failed to get further than the end of the first chapter.

“It’s nothing,” Dean eventually replied. He curled his toes in his socks, trying to get warm, but the small fire he’d started in the wood stove that was in the living room had done little to fight back the chill. Dean suspected he needed to put more wood on and stoke it a little more.

Cas frowned and set down his book on the arm of the couch. Twisting towards Dean, Castiel gave him an appraising look. “Dean, forgive me, but it’s clearly not nothing. You’ve been trembling since the storm started.”

Letting out a sigh, Dean shrugged and put his book down. He was feeling tired and a little defeated. The day was meant to be focused on him getting things done or at least ready. _Still, at least Cas is here_. “I just don’t like storms.”

The frown on Castiel’s face deepened. “But storms are a natural event.”

“Eh, not always.” Dean got up from the couch and headed back towards the kitchen.

The couch creaked as Castiel got up and trotted after Dean. “I will put more coffee on,” he announced just as Dean was reaching for the pot.

“I can do it myself,” Dean grumped.

Castiel’s gaze raked over Dean, making the tense muscles in his back draw even more taught. “I believe you are at risk of dropping the carafe,” Castiel said.

Dean’s hand dropped down to his side and then he raised it, looking at it. He could see the tremors there. “Okay, you make the coffee.”

Castiel smiled and reached out for the pot so that he could get water for coffee. As he tottered over to the refrigerator, Dean watched as a shiver went down Castiel’s spine, and then another. Despite the sweater and warm socks, he was still cold. Overhead, another flash of lightning and crack of thunder made Dean nearly jump.

“I think I saw some blankets upstairs, I’ll go get them.” Dean headed towards the stairs and went on up. Being on the cabin’s upper level, Dean could hear the rain even more clearly. Walking towards the bedroom, he tried not to focus on the sounds from outside.

Dean reached the cabin’s linen closet and yanked the door open. He rooted around for the woven blankets he’d seen. Simple blues and grays, a little rough, Dean was reminded of the ponchos Clint Eastwood would wear in Westerns. He grabbed two blankets, thinking that would be enough.

Heading for the stairs again, Dean could smell coffee and he tried to focus on the fact that the lightning and thunder would have to pass at some point. He went to the couch and dropped the blankets there before heading back to the kitchen.

Dean approached Castiel’s back and then heard a low rumble, but it wasn’t thunder.

“You hungry?” Dean asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Cas turned to him, a faint grimace of discomfort passing his face. He looked smaller, somehow, in Dean’s clothes, like he was trying to curl in on himself. Another low gurgle of Castiel’s stomach confirmed that he was hungry. Cas gave Dean a resigned look. “Yes.”

Dean didn’t reprimand Cas. “Okay, you keep an eye on the coffee, and I’ll… I’ll fix up some PB&J,” he offered instead.

Cas squinted at Dean for a moment, maybe a little surprised that Dean hadn’t asked why he was feeling hungry. “Thank you.” He turned back to the coffee.

Dean went hunting for the jelly, bread and peanut butter he’d brought to the cabin. While he got everything together, he assessed the food supplies he’d brought up with him. He hadn’t been stingy when he’d gone grocery shopping but they were going to run into issues in three days if Cas ended up eating human levels of food or more.

Layering slices of bread with peanut butter and jelly, Dean kept looking up at Castiel, watching his back carefully. There was no denying the tense set of the angel’s shoulders, or the way he moved more slowly than usual, as if he was in pain and everything ached. Lightning flashed again just after Castiel tried rolling his shoulders. It was like the weather was accenting his every movement that caused him pain.

Dean recalled learning about pathos in some English class at school, but he’d never really understood it until now. The somber set of Castiel’s body and low mood. The pain that was becoming more apparent… _Maybe I should find him some aspirin?_ Dean thought as he tried to fight against the rising tide of panic that was driven by memories of Cas as a human or his grace nearly completely gone.

Coffee and sandwiches done, the fire stoked in the wood stove, Dean and Cas took their food and drink to the couch, huddling under the blankets that Dean had found. The blankets were a little short to cover both of them effectively, which wasn’t surprising though Sam would definitely have been worse off.

As they ate, Dean kept sneaking glances at Cas, unable to escape how happy Cas looked as he ate his PB&J. The idea that something Dean had done had made that happy satisfied look on Castiel’s face caused Dean’s chest to ache. The coffee was pretty good as well.

“Mmm, thank you, Dean,” Castiel said as he set his plate down on the coffee table beside the couch. He picked up his coffee and held it between his hands, enjoying the warmth.

Dean set down his own empty plate and picked up his coffee. He copied Cas, as it really was that cold in the cabin. Though his attention on the wood stove had made things a touch more tolerable. Dean thought about whether he should ask Cas if it would be alright if they sat side by side—at least then they should share body heat for warmth.

Castiel took a sip of his coffee and sighed. “Dean… I’m cold.”

 _Oh!_ Dean tried to reign back the hope he was suddenly feeling, because being hopeful over a friend’s discomfort was not right. Licking his lips, Dean did his best to keep his voice steady as he suggested, “We could sit closer together… It would be warmer.”

Castiel rolled his shoulders, lightning and thunder crashed through the sky. Dean tried not to spill his coffee as his body shook a little. “You’re right. Much like penguins seeking warmth on the Antarctic ice. Huddle for warmth.”

“Wait, h-” Dean stopped as Castiel somehow managed to slide over to Dean’s side of the couch without spilling coffee and quickly rearranged their blankets so it was easier to share warmth as their bodies touched. He tucked his legs up underneath himself and leaned against Dean, no cuddled against Dean’s side.

Cheeks going red, Dean sipped more of his coffee, words evading him.

“You’re right. This is far warmer.” Castiel snuggled closer, book in one hand and coffee cup in the other.

***

The two of them cuddled—because there was no other word for the way Cas had placed himself on the couch—for most of the day. They took turns in making coffee. Dean cooked chili for dinner. And eventually Cas seemed a little less tense and the weather had finally calmed down to just driving rain, so Dean was feeling better too.

It was just weird having Cas so close for so long. Personal space had completely disappeared as a concept as the day progressed. While Dean cooked dinner, Cas hovered at his back, blanket around his shoulders. It was as comical as much as it was endearing.

The closeness made it very apparent to Dean that he’d have to talk to Cas at some point, about some feelings he had had for a long time, but that could wait until Cas was comfortable and the skies were bluer.

Castiel yawned, snapping Dean’s attention way from Assassin’s Apprentice. He looked to a clock that was hung on one wall and then yawned as well. It was late.

“Okay, it’s time to get some sleep. I’ll take the couch. You can-”

“No, Dean. You should take the bed. I’m the one who’s intruding.” Castiel stood up and stretched, then a shiver had him clamping a blanket tight around himself again.

Dean couldn’t believe he was about to suggest what he was, but he did it anyway. “We could share the bed. It’s plenty big enough. Pile on some extra blankets too.”

Castiel gazed at Dean, eyes suddenly darker than they were a moment ago. “Okay.”

_I am so screwed, but not screwed. This is a terrible idea, Winchester. A terrible, no good idea…_

“Okay,” Dean parroted back.


	5. Sweet dreams

Dean doesn’t think he’s going to be able to sleep. The rain is heavy against the cabin roof, and he’s worried about being in the same bed as Cas. Finally the two of them are ready, with Cas in borrowed pajamas and Dean in an old Henley and a pair of thin sweats. They both stand awkwardly on their respective sides—Dean on the left, nearest the door and Cas on the right.

Castiel yawned and Dean realized that they really did need to get into bed. He pulled back the covers and extra blankets and slid in on his side, then Cas did the same. The two of them settled down, shifting, trying to get comfortable with Dean actively avoiding getting into Castiel’s space.

Lying in bed as Castiel’s breathing slowly leveled out to sleep, Dean thought about what all this meant, the way Cas was acting a bit too human again. It was worrying, because he’d looked like he was in pain or discomfort many times during the day. But as far as Dean and Sam had been able to tell since Castiel’s last resurrection by Jack, Castiel’s grace levels were pretty okay.

_So what’s wrong?_ Dean pondered until sleep finally pulled him down into unconsciousness.

***

When Dean woke up in the morning, the sun starting to break into the bedroom through a gap in the blinds, there was a wall of warmth solid against his back and warm breaths ghosting over his neck. He was the little spoon and Dean couldn’t quite believe that he had Castiel curled around him. Dean was hard anyway, but heat pooled in his gut as he felt Castiel’s hard length pressing up against his cheeks.

Dean let slow breaths out as he focused on not pushing up back against Cas. Being held in Castiel’s arms was like a million fantasies of his come true all at once, but Dean didn’t want to creep his friend out, didn’t want to send him running for the hills. So instead, Dean slowly and gently pulled himself away from Castiel, unwrapping the angel from his body.

Really, Dean needed to use to the john and then have a shower, but part of him wanted to stay in that bed and find out if Cas didn’t mind morning kisses and gentle touches. But he crawled out of the bed and headed for the upstairs bathroom.

Going through the motions, Dean was in the shower and letting the heat of the water work its magic. The pressure was pretty good and again Dean was glad the plumbing was not one aspect of the cabin he’d have to check out for Donna. Mostly because he didn’t want a repeat of that one time he accidentally flooded Lisa’s kitchen.

Feeling more at ease, Dean stroked down his body, foaming up shower gel over his skin, his hands casually brushing his dick, making him jerk his hand back, _because damn that’s sensitive_. And sure, maybe he needed to work though what he had experienced upon waking up. He gripped his filling cock, hand gently stroking down and up, twisting just so at the tip as he worked himself to full hardness. He leaned an arm against the tiles, the water flowing over his back and stroked himself, focusing on the sensation rather than imagining anything, but the more Dean touched himself, the more thoughts of Castiel would bubble up in his mind.

Thoughts of Cas curled around him, hands drifting low so that he was the one stroking Dean while the two of them lazily cuddled in bed, drove Dean on as he jerked off. He didn’t give himself space to think about the fact that Cas was only a room away. Instead he focused on the way imaginary Cas was a little unsure of what he was doing, but quickly figured out how to make Dean feel good.

Panting and trying to keep himself from making any sounds louder than the spray from the shower, Dean shuddered and whined in the back of his throat. His toes curled as he felt his release approaching, and Dean sucked on his arm to stop himself from crying out as he finally came, warm come splattering onto the tiles in front of him. Shaking and working to catch his breath, Dean worked himself through his orgasm, until he was boneless and floating.

It took a while, but eventually Dean was able to stand upright and let the shower spray wash away his release. He finished washing himself and turned off the water. Grabbing his towel from the railing near the shower curtain, Dean dried off in the residual heat of the shower. He pulled the curtain back.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted him from the toilet, which he was using.

Dean hit the shower wall and looked at Cas like he had sprouted two heads, which the way things were going was an entirely plausible outcome. _He’s using the john_ , Dean thought to himself in alarm. And of course it made perfect sense, in some ways, because of all that Cas had consumed the day before, but at the same time, Dean can’t quite get over that Cas is using the toilet and that he was probably lurking there while Dean jerked off.

Catching his breath again, Dean steadied himself and said, “You normally wait until the other person is done with the bathroom.”

Cas ducked his head and then looked back to Dean. “I really needed to use the toilet and you were in the shower, so I thought it would not be an issue as you had a curtain.”

_Okay, so at least Cas doesn’t seem to know what I was doing_ …

“But do you always pleasure yourself in the shower?”

Dean’s cheeks heated. “We are not having this conversation.”

Checking his towel was secure, Dean stepped out of the shower and headed for the bedroom and clothing. Rooting by the bed for his jeans from the previous day, Dean looked up at the mattress as something black and gold caught his eye. There on what had been Castiel’s side of the bed were several, small, black and gold feathers. Jeans forgotten, Dean picked up the feathers and cradled them in his hands. The feathers were soft and warm.

Dean looked to the pillows on the bed and the comforter, pressing down on them to feel their texture, but neither appeared to be filled with down. Putting the feathers on top of a dresser, Dean got dressed for the day, forgoing the hoodie, because it felt like it was actually going to be a warm day. The rain had stopped and the sun was bright outside.

Without waiting for Cas to finish in the bathroom, Dean stuffed the two feathers in his back pocket, put some clothes out for Cas and then headed downstairs. He got coffee on and then went to check on Castiel’s laundry. The trench coat and tie were going to need to be pressed, the shirt, jacket and dress slacks were looking okay, but there was no iron in the cabin. So while Cas would look clean wearing his own clothes, he would looked very rumpled.

Rooting through his supplies, Dean settled on making pancakes for breakfast. He even had some berries and bananas he could serve them with—Sam would be proud. Mixing up the batter while waiting for a pan to warm on the stove top, Dean listened to the sounds of Cas moving around upstairs. He tried not to think about Cas stripping, or Cas in the shower, or Cas drying himself off, but it was tough.

Dean had come to the cabin to get away from complicated thoughts, but being in close quarters with Cas—sharing a bed with him and waking up to Cas’s morning wood pressing into his back—was not exactly what Dean thought would be happening while at the cabin. Instead he had expected to be working on the cabin, fixing it up and getting lost in the work.

In a way, he missed the times he’d worked construction to get some extra money when he and Sam, or him and Dad, had been out on the road. The work had always been relaxing in the way that it wore you out, but then enjoyable when you could see the fruition of what you’d been doing. Sure it had been hard to find jobs sometimes when a union presence was strong, but those times he did get work had been some of Dean’s most satisfying days when he was younger.

Older Dean, however, wasn’t suited to working construction for days at a time. He was only just pulling through hunts in one piece and whenever he got too banged up, it would take some time to heal. _Getting old, old man_ , Dean thought as he poured the batter for the first pancake into the pan.

The mixture sizzled and bubbled as Dean cooked the pancake. Overheard, the stairs creaked as Castiel finally descended and joined him in the kitchen.

“Dean… I am sorry if I caused you any embarrassment,” Castiel greeted Dean.

And of course they were having that conversation. Dean straightened his back and shrugged. “It’s fine, Cas. If you needed to go, you needed to go.” _Plus I didn’t lock the door so…_

“Dean?”

Sighing, Dean looked over at Cas as he came to stop at Dean’s side. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t mean to cuddle you in the night… It just sort of happened.”

This got Dean’s face heating up more than mention of the shower. And of course Dean had not completely hated to what he had awoken to, but he was on tenuous ground here. Yes he had come to the cabin for some peace and quiet, but at the same time he didn’t want to push Cas away.

“It’s fine, Cas. Really… I didn’t mind it,” Dean admitted.

“You like being cuddled?” Cas asked in surprise.

“Well, if it’s the right person and they…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he realized what he had said.

“I’m the right person?” Cas asked, gravelly voice going a notch lower and making Dean’s face heat even more.

“Well…” Dean started in a higher than usual voice as he plated the first cooked pancake and poured batter for another. “You are one of my best friends…”

Castiel nodded. “So it’s because we’re friends that cuddling in bed is nice? Does that mean you would cuddle in bed with other friends?”

Dean had no idea how to work an answer together on this. The hole just kept getting deeper. He couldn’t say anything right. “No, just, really, really good friends.”

“Like Donna or Jody?”

Dean felt lightheaded. “No, I’d take the couch.”

“What about Garth?”

_What the hell is with 20 questions?!_ “No, I just…”

“Are you saying that I’m your only really, really good best friend?” Cas asked, frown furrowing his brow.

_This hole is too deep. I am never climbing out of it. Never._ “Yes.”

Castiel stood beside Dean as he plated another pancake, unmoving while deep in thought. Dean kept an eye on Cas as he started cooking the next pancake. Unsure what Cas was thinking, unsure what Cas was going to do. The air seemed warmer and warmer as time stretched on.

“You’re my only really, really good best friend too,” Cas said in a solemn voice. “I’ll finish making the coffee. Is there anything else we need to go with the pancakes?”

Dean felt like he was going to slide down onto the floor and never be able to get up again. “Yeah, if you could get the berries out of the fridge and chop a couple of bananas, and find the syrup, that would be great.”


	6. Splinters and things

“Sorry about your clothes, Cas,” Dean said as Cas held a ladder so that Dean could reexamine the cabin roof after the previous day’s torrential rain. Thankfully the lightning rod on the cabin’s chimney had kept it safe from the worst of the lightning, but Dean could see that it had been struck several times during the past day. The damage that was already done to the shingles hadn’t gotten any worse.

“They are clean now at least. We will use the right tools when we eventually return to the Bunker,” Cas called up.

The hairs on Dean’s arms stood up as he took in what Cas had said. He wasn’t leaving until Dean left. _He wants to stay as long as I stay_ , but Dean couldn’t allow himself the luxury of thinking about this, least not while on a roof, so he pulled his thoughts back. Dean clambered gently over the tiles and continued looking for any new potential damage. The cabin was well built and had probably withstood snow storms worse than what had happened with the lightning storm, but that kind of weather meant that Dean’s previous assessment of the cabin was no longer valid.

Finding a few more shingles gone, but nothing further wrong with the roof than what he had previously, Dean carefully moved back to where the top of the ladder was waiting for him. “Coming down!” Dean called.

“I’m here,” Cas reassured.

Dean started down the ladder, climbing steadily and keeping his gaze away from the ground. He didn’t like heights, but it was nothing like trying to fly on a plane. The ladder stayed steady under him and he reached the ground safely.

“I’m going to have to call Donna and see if she can order some new felt and shingles for the roof. There was damage before the storm, but it’s only gotten worse. We need to get the roof fixed. We’re lucky we didn’t have water coming in.” Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Cas nodded in acceptance. Dean smiled and then headed off to inspect the walls, Cas trailing after him like some kind of shadow. It was weird that Cas was trailing after him rather than sitting and reading something. As far as Dean knew, Cas had no prior home improvement experience, and he would have expected Cas to be bored.

But as Dean looked and examined, talking to Castiel about the problems he was finding, Cas was an attentive listener, asking questions at the right moments and fully engaged in what Dean was doing. To Dean it felt strange, but not unwelcome. It was nice to have someone to talk with about what he needed to do in order to fix up the place.

Sam would have gotten bored hours ago, but Cas showed no sign of wishing he was somewhere else. The closeness of Cas was heady, making Dean ache as he pointed out the faults he found. He wanted so much to turn around and press his lips to Castiel, but he wouldn’t do that. Not without Cas giving the okay.

He couldn’t talk to Cas about this. Sure Cas had full on spooned him in the night, felt fine with pressing morning wood against his ass, but he couldn’t talk to him. Actually give voice to the feelings he’s been carrying for years. _Not my thing_ , Dean thought. Sure he had had the odd pang of feeling for certain guys in his life before. He knew Sam had suspected that maybe, maybe, his big brother swung more than one way, but Dean had never indulged these feelings outside of watching the odd porno… and the copious number of fantasies he’d had about Castiel.

“Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean blinked. The question had the tone of one that had already been asked several times, preceded by an actual detailed question about something specific that Dean had completely failed to hear.

“Yeah?” Dean asked in a low voice.

“Did you mean to put your hand there? Only, it looks like you’ve just gotten a splinter. Several in fact.”

Dean looked at his left hand. He’d set it down on a section of outer wall that was not looking its best. Roughened by weather, it was one of the sections Dean identified the previous morning as looking less than healthy—its surface had been splintering.

Swallowing hard, Dean let out a long breath. “I did not mean to put my hand there.”

Cas stepped closer, getting in Dean’s space as he crouched down beside him, eyes trained on Dean’s hand. “If you slowly pull away, some of them may not stay in your hand.”

“Great.” Dean clenched his jaw and gently eased his hand away from the side of the cabin. He hissed as several splinters pulled away with his hand, but not as many if he had suddenly yanked it back.

Castiel shifted uneasily as he stood up. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can heal this.”

If the splinters had happened the week before, Dean was pretty sure that Cas could have dealt with a few splinters and just mojo them away. Castiel’s very human shivering, hunger, sleepiness and need to use the toilet over the past day pointed towards an angel that didn’t have its usual angelic levels of power. _What’s wrong, Cas?_

“That’s fine. Do you think you can help me pull them out if we go find the first aid kit?” Dean asked, trying to keep his worry from showing in his voice.

“Yes.”

Castiel led the way back into the cabin with Dean cradling his left hand as he walked. He’d gotten plenty of splinters in his hands over the years and pulled them out, pulled plenty out of Sam’s hands as well—salt and burns were especially a high risk for splinters—but he always found it difficult removing his own splinters. It helped when you could concentrate on keeping still rather than keeping still and delicately moving at the same time. He’d never leave a splinter untreated if he could help it.

The ground squelched underfoot as they made their way back inside, and they both had to kick mud from their shoes as they came in. Cas insisted on them taking them off, rather than getting mud everywhere and it was more than a little embarrassing having Cas help Dean remove his footwear. Eventually he went with it and refused to think about Cas kneeling in front of him.

Cas made Dean sit at the kitchen table while he got the first aid kit from Dean’s duffel upstairs. Waiting, Dean wondered if Cas actually knew how to deal with splinters.

“This will sting,” Castiel announced as he set the first aid kit and opened it up. He then busied himself around the kitchen, getting a bowl of soapy water and finding some cotton balls in the first aid kit.

“You know what you’re doing, right?” Dean asked.

Castiel turned, frowning, and gave Dean an appraising look. “I have observed you and Sam administering first aid many times… and several time I had to treat splinters I received when I worked in the Gas-N-Sip. There was this one shelf in the stock room that was ragged and even though I tried not to, it kept giving me splinters when I had to retrieve stock from it.”

“Oh.”

Dean didn’t like to think of that time that Cas was human, because he knew he was culpable for a lot of that misery. He let Gadreel run the show when he could have done more. Given Cas a credit card or a huge wad of cash. Sent him to one of the few friends they still had—Aaron, Jody, hell, maybe Garth, not that he had known about the whole werewolf thing then, but still. He could have done more. And he hadn’t.

“I suggest not looking.” Castiel picked up a cotton ball and dipped it in the soapy water beside him. He reached out and gripped Dean’s left hand.

Dean couldn’t look away as Cas tenderly cleaned his hand, the touches careful not to aggravate the splinters. Castiel’s touch was light and reverent, more caring than Dean suspected he deserved.

Castiel shifted awkwardly on his seat and Dean heard the first splatters of rain. _Great, not again_ , Dean thought, but there wasn’t any thunder or lightning, at least not yet. Dean looked away from Cas and let out a long breath. He looked back and found Cas watching him.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, just don’t want another storm.” Dean smiled weakly.

“Okay…” Castiel picked up a pair of tweezers. “You really should look away.”

“Fine…” Dean looked away and focused his attention on the raindrops now sliding down the windows.

Castiel slid one hand under Dean’s and carefully held his hand. Dean braced himself and kept his eyes on the rain. The cold steel of the tweezers glided along his palm and then he felt a prick of pain as Cas pulled the first splinter out.

Working carefully, Castiel pulled out five splinters in all and made a point of making the site of each one bleed a little, pinching the skin, so that any dirt would come out. Then he cleaned Dean’s hand again, before applying a light dressing, bandaging Dean’s hand up.

“Thanks,” Dean said as he finally looked at Cas again and tried to ignore the dull stinging ache in his left hand. “I think you’re going to be cooking today.”

Castiel hummed and stood. “I hope you like pasta.”

“Pretty sure I like pasta.” Dean smiled and watched Cas tidy things away. He was about to ask if Cas needed them to go get anything from Hibbing, but when he looked back towards the chair Cas had been sat in, Dean noticed a black-gold feather on the seat.

Cas was busy at the sink. Dean got up and checked that he still had two feathers in his pocket from the bedroom. There were no pillows here, no comforters. Maybe Cas had brought the feather down on his clothes, but Dean found it unlikely, because the feathers were the wrong color and size for being filling.

Dean picked up the feather and put it in his back pocket along with the rest. Cas then came over and started putting the first aid things away.

“I do think we should go to Hibbing and buy supplies today though,” Castiel said. “I want to make meatballs.”


	7. A simple explanation

Hibbing was as delightful as ever. There was no rain in town, in fact it looked like it hadn’t rained there for days. Not like up at the cabin. Dean frowned as Cas put his car in park along the main street. Cas had insisted on driving, because of Dean’s hand, and they’d taken some nondescript sedan down into town.

Dean was about to say something about the lack of weather when he spotted Donna walking towards them along the sidewalk. A grin spread across Dean’s face and he hopped out the car, leaving Cas to put cash in the meter.

“Donna!” Dean greeted, instantly met by a concerned gaze as Donna’s eyes drifted to his bandaged hand.

“I said you could fix up the place, not go hurt yourself!” Donna said, pulling him into a hug.

“Good to see you too,” Dean mumbled into Donna’s shoulder.

“Hello,” Castiel said from behind Dean and Donna let go.

“Why hi there, you must be Castiel!” Donna greeted brightly. Dean watched as Donna gave Cas a bone crushing hug. Cas looked surprised as Donna squeezed him tight, but then that turned to a smile as Donna slowly stepped back.

“And you must be Donna,” Cas said. “It is good to finally meet you.”

“These boys, huh? Getcha to save the world for ‘em, lord knows how many times, but they never introduce you to their friends.” Donna winked.

Dean was having none of it. “Hey, busy doing that save the world thing.”

“Still not good enough. But you’re here now. Lunch? It’s on me.”

***

“Mmmm, these chili cheese fries are delightful. Dean, why have you never suggested I order loaded fries?” Castiel asked, a slightly scandalized look on his face.

Dean sighed. Not only was Cas hungry, Donna was helping to educate him in poor eating habits that Sam was going to kill Dean for. If he found out—there was obviously the chance he would never know, but he’d found out pretty early on when Jack had tasted an Elvis burger. Dean didn’t say anything. Jack didn’t say anything. Sam had just known.

“I figured there wasn’t much point in your pretend food being that, uhhhhhhh…” Dean couldn’t really come up with a good justification, beyond cost and waste.

“You got them now, that’s what matters.” Donna took a slurp of the coke float she had ordered and beamed.

Castiel nodded in agreement and took a slurp of the vanilla float he had ordered with his fries. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched Castiel’s throat work, Adam’s apple bobbing, and Dean adjusted himself. _He’s just drinking a float! Come on!_ Dean silently cursed at his traitorous dick.

“How about that storm yesterday, huh?” Dean asked after he’d finished his steak.

Castiel nodded and then belched. “It was quite terrible,” he said as if on cue.

What wasn’t on cue was Donna’s confused, wide eyes. “What storm?”

“The thunder storm that lasted most of the day yesterday. _The_ storm.”

Donna looked between Dean and Cas, an eyebrow quirked. “We didn’t have a storm. Everything was peachy.”

_Peachy? There was no way that thing was that localized! Even demonic activity makes for bigger areas than just that cabin._ Dean raised an eyebrow back at Donna.

“We had a storm. Went up on the roof this morning and the lightning rod looked like it had caught more than dozen lightning strikes,” Dean said calmly.

“Hate to tell ya, but we had nothing of the sort.” Donna shrugged. “Musta been in the hills.”

“The hills,” Dean repeated.

Cas was focused on his fries, nothing more to add. Dean had no idea what was with that, he sighed and said, “Musta been just us then.”

“Musta been,” Donna repeated.

Aside from the weather, they didn’t talk much about the past year as they ate together. Too many awful things had happened, but Dean was glad to have what he did. Though Donna also didn’t ask who was sleeping where, by the end of their lunch, he got the distinct impression that Donna was going to be chatting on the phone to Sam as soon as the pair of them were out of sight. It was inevitable after the whole Michael thing, everyone was worried about him, but Dean felt good. Felt the best he had in years.

Once lunch was over and the check paid, they went their separate ways, Donna also had a list of supplies she needed to order for the cabin. She promised to have them at the cabin by the end of the week and would call ahead for when she had an exact delivery date.

Dean and Cas headed to the larger grocery store in town and proceeded to pick up what Cas needed to cook that evening, and extra supplies now that there were two people at the cabin. The store was busy, but not too busy and because Cas was actually in relatively normal looking clothes for once, Dean noticed that he didn’t get as many stares as he normally would.

“Maybe you should go incognito more often,” Dean offered as the two of them looked for some ground beef to make meatballs from.

“You mean not wear my coat and suit?” Castiel picked a pack of meat down an looked at it before trying to sniff at the ground beef through the cellophane. Whatever smell test he did, it seemed to pass and it was added to their cart.

“Yeah. I mean, you look smart, good in it,” Dean swallowed, earlier fantasies threatening to take over his mind, which he quickly pushed back, “but it kind of stands out. Like Sam and I only put on our suits when we need people to think we’re something. Otherwise, just regular pants, shirts, t-shirts, boots… Ties make people pay attention and often when you least want them to.”

Castiel turned to Dean, a slight pout to his mouth. “I like my suit. And my coat. And my tie.”

_That is the cutest, I just… Winchester, get a grip! Ahem…_ “And I like it too, but you, uh, you look good in jeans and a sweater too.”

Castiel’s cheeks colored and he turned his face away from Dean, suddenly distracted by some steaks that were near the ground beef. _I made Cas blush!_ Dean thought to himself, the sudden knowledge sending off on a million tangents of thought as to why this might be.

Nonchalantly, Dean turned and picked up some branded seasoning that had been stacked near the beef, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas giving him a very considered look. When Dean turned around again, Cas was pushing the cart further down the aisle, steps more hurried than usual. Dean jogged to catch up.

That evening, Cas surprised Dean with some of the best meatballs he had ever eaten.


	8. Waking up

Dean woke up in the night, a hard line of warmth against his back. Strong arms held him. Dean sighed and snuggled back towards Cas, enjoying the closeness. He knew he needed to talk to Cas about his feelings, but he also knew it could wait when the angel wasn’t tired and asleep. Drifting back off to sleep, Dean felt something warm brush his cheek, but he figured it was Castiel’s hand. A part of his brain knew it wasn’t possible, because Castiel’s hands were on his waist, but Dean was too sleepy to consider it further as sleep found him again.

***

“Sam,” Dean said in a near whisper once his brother finally answered his call.

Cas was in the shower, but Dean was kneeling in their bed, six new feathers in front of him. He kept throwing glances toward the bathroom door, but the water was running. Dean didn’t want Cas to know that he was worried about him, but these feathers were bigger than the other ones Dean had found in the bed previously. And he kept thinking about the soft stroking he’d had along his cheek during the night.

“I’m surprised you’re awake,” Sam greeted.

“Yeah, yeah, look… I uh… I think something’s wrong with Cas.” Dean glanced over his shoulder again and checked that the shower was still running.

“And you’re thinking this, because…?”

“Because I keep finding these feathers around the place and they’re not from any bird I know and they’re definitely not from anything of Donna’s.”

“Hmm, interesting…”

“Sam, what the hell is going on?”

But there was no immediate reply. Instead Dean heard Sam walking through the Bunker, breathing picking up and then him shifting something and grunting. Something heavy dropped down, like a large book on a table and then Dean could hear pages being flipped through.

“Sam…”

The flipping stopped. “Ah, I think, uh… Has Cas been acting different in any other way?”

Dean pursed his lips and then relaxed, sighing out his answer. “Uh, hungry, sleepy, cold…” Dean’s mouth went a little dry as he added, “Cuddling.”

There’s some unidentifiable sound from Sam’s end, something between a strangled cry and a laugh that’s all half-aborted. “Wow, okay. Well from the symptoms I’d say that Cas is going through a molt.”

“A molt.” Dean paused. “But surely losing feathers doesn’t mean… that he would…”

Sam cleared his throat, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. “Dean, Cas chose you as his… molting partner. It’s uh, according to the lore, a very significant role. It means that, well, uh, maybe…”

“Spit it out, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me that! Anyway… it means that Cas likely considers you his nest mate.”

Dean’s stomach churned. “His nest mate?”

The shower had turned off. Cas would be out of the bathroom very soon.

“Sam, what do I do?”

Sam snorted and Dean could imagine that his brother was rolling his eyes. “You two need to talk.”

“C’mon, Sam, you know that’s not… that’s not…”

“Not your thing, ha, understatement. Look, keep all the feathers you find… Cas will like that.”

The bathroom door clicked open and the line went dead. Dean stared down at his cell phone and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do. Quickly he jammed his cell on the bedside table, grabbed the feathers and shoved them in the top drawer of the bedside table, along with the others he had found.

_Molt partner? Nest mate? How? I’m not partner material, I’m-_ But Dean’s thought stuttered to a halt as he looked around to see Cas walking towards him, towel low on his hips, water droplets pebbling his skin, sliding past his nipples.

“Were you talking with Sam?” Castiel asked as he headed over to the clothes that Dean had put out for him.

Dean tried not to stare, but confronted by Castiel’s broad glistening chest was not something that was conducive to making his brain and mouth work. At no moment before this had Dean ever felt so physically drawn to Cas. Normally he was downstairs after Cas finished in the shower, getting the coffee on, but this was different because the number of feathers really had made him pause.

Their eyes met and Dean couldn’t look away. He could see something there, Castiel’s pupils were starting to swallow his eyes, but instead of saying anything, Castiel picked up his boxers and dropped the towel. Like it was a dare. Dean had never seen this much of Cas before and oh how Dean wanted to walk over to Cas and find out what he tasted like. What all of him tasted like.

Face heating up, Dean finally looked away, half hard and aching. “Yeah, it was Sam,” Dean ground out.

“I hope he and Jack are well.” Cas pulled the boxers on.

“Peachy.” Dean got up from the bed and before Cas could ask or say anything else, Dean had taken four long strides and was inside the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

***

For lunch, Dean made them sandwiches again. Spreading mustard over the slices of bread, Dean tried to think how he should start the conversation he very clearly needed to have with Cas. Without asking, Cas was suddenly behind him, a hand drifting to the small of Dean’s back. The touch was solid and warm, making the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stand up.

“Dean,” Castiel leaned closer, breath ghosting over Dean’s neck, “perhaps with the weather so nice we could perhaps go outside to eat?”

Dean licked his lips and looked out the nearest window. There was sunshine and the air was warming up again to something more appropriate for the season. It was strange how the weather at the cabin seemed so different to what was happening down in Hibbing.

“Sure, we can eat outside,” Dean said, trying to keep his voice normal. “I think there’s a picnic table around the south side.” It was in the best sun trap at the cabin from Dean recalled.

“Hmm, is there anything I can do?” Castiel asked, voice as suggestive as the hand on Dean’s back started to stroke small circles. Touches from Cas had been growing in frequency and intensity, with the cuddling in bed some of the most obvious contact he had received from Cas.

“Sure, find me some plates and uh, grab some sodas from the refrigerator.” Dean started to pile meat, cheese, lettuce and tomato slices onto one slice of bread and then the same with the other. He’d made bigger sandwiches, but he wasn’t about to try for some TV logic today.

Once the food was ready, Dean carried the food out to the picnic table and Cas brought chips and sodas. It was just before the unpleasant side of warm outside and Dean found himself enjoying the heat soaking into him. Just as Dean and Cas finished setting things down, Dean was about to say something when Cas jogged off around the side of the cabin out of view.

“Cas, what the-” He stopped talking as Cas reappeared with a sun parasol for the table and then lowered it into the hole in the picnic table, settling the shade’s pole into its base.

“Neither of us is wearing sun lotion,” Castiel observed as he came to sit opposite Dean at the table. “We should be trying to not get burned.”

Dean did have sun lotion back inside the cabin, but Cas was right: he didn’t want sunburn, though he was surprised that Cas was including himself in the risk assessment. “Thanks.”

They ate in companionable silence. The wilderness around them calling and moving, life doing that thing Dean was so afraid that Michael would have destroyed. But there they all were: alive and able to enjoy the world.

“Dean,” Castiel called softly, breaking Dean from his thoughts. “You have, uh…” Castiel leaned across the table, finger swiping across the corner of Dean’s mouth and toward his chin.

Dean shivered and looked to Cas whose finger was smeared with yellow mustard. “You had sauce on your face,” Castiel explained.

“Oh,” Dean answered, brain struggling to function. His breath caught in his chest and he tried to think of something more to say. “Thanks.”

Cas gave Dean a shy smile and then got up, moving to collect their dirty dishes. Dean remembered himself and got up to help, but his conversation with Sam from that morning weighed heavily on his mind.

Dean helped Cas clean their dishes and put everything away, but he struggled to find a way to talk to Cas about what was—most probably—going on between them. He also didn’t want to ruin Castiel’s mood. It was a long time since he’d seen him so content and happy. In fact Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Cas so relaxed.

But he could see it now, the following morning, waking up with even more black and gold feathers in bed. They needed to talk.

“Cas,” Dean started, heart jumping toward his mouth, “can we talk?”

“We’re talking now, are we not?” Castiel supplied and let the water drain. He dried his hands on a towel and gave Dean an expectant look.

Dean took a steadying breath. “I found some feathers in the bed this morning and yesterday… and, uh…” Dean reached behind him and pulled one of the feathers out of his back pocket. “Is this yours?”

Castiel’s cheeks colored and he struggled to meet Dean’s gaze, which was a first. Finally he turned to Dean and nodded. “Yes.”

Cas was clearly uncomfortable and Dean knew he needed to tread carefully. He swallowed and took a step closer. “Are you… molting?”

Castiel swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes.”

“Is that why you’re all… hungry and stuff?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. Molting takes a great deal of energy.”

Dean took another step closer and was practically breathing Castiel’s air. “Am I your molting partner?”

“Yes.”

Dean worried at his bottom lip. “Cas, am I your… nest mate?”

Castiel let out a long breath and shifted on his feet, and met Dean’s eyes. “Only if you want to be.”

Dean let out a shuddering breath. “What do… what do nest mates do?”

Castiel leaned in until their lips were almost touching. “I think, Dean… you already know.”


	9. Nest mate

Dean couldn’t budge from where he was stood in the kitchen. Castiel’s heat was bleeding into him across the short distance and Dean reached out. He twined his fingers with Castiel’s, getting a pleased murmur from Cas.

“Okay,” Dean said, still resisting the urge to kiss Cas, “say I do know what this all means. Are your wings healed?”

Castiel took a shuddering breath and somehow, warm air gusted over Dean. “They are starting to heal.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“I just need to get through his molt.”

Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand. “What’s the difference between a molt partner and a nest mate?”

“A molt partner helps an angel through their molt… a nest mate, well…” Castiel’s voice trailed off, breath hitching. “A nest mate is not always someone who helps an angel through their molt, but...” Castiel’s mouth brushed against Dean’s jaw and kissed him. “They are important in other ways.”

Dean and his very interested dick was easily supplying what those other ways may be. “Cas… need you to-to-to-”

Castiel brought their mouths together and Dean full body shuddered as he opened his mouth to Cas. Their hands fell apart only to reach up and grab at each other. Dean tangled his hands in Castiel’s shirt, while Cas did much the same to him. It was over ten years of sexual tension suddenly bubbling to the surface and screaming for more.

Dean stopped kissing Cas and caught his breath. “Are you sure?” Dean asked between breaths.

Castiel looked at Dean like he was the most charming idiot he knew. “I am incredibly sure… are you?”

It pained Dean to do it, but he untangled himself from Cas and looked at him. Really looked at him. “Cas, I’ve… I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just want to be sure that you really want me.”

In reply, Castiel swept forward and pulled Dean into his arms, mouth on his again. Dean gave in willingly and opened his mouth to Cas, tongue eager to taste and tease. Cas bumped him up against the kitchen counter and ground his hips against Dean, the pressure and drag making Dean’s cock harden.

“Wait,” Dean gasped as he caught his breath. “Not here.” _Donna will never forgive me if we fuck here._

“Where?” Castiel asked.

“Bed.”

Castiel grabbed Dean and swept him over his shoulder. One moment the world was upright, the next Dean was staring at Castiel’s ass. He’d been caught off guard and Dean fought his hunter’s instincts to fight back, telling himself that Cas was not a threat. He allowed himself to be carried upstairs, Castiel’s depleted energy levels were clearly not so bad that he couldn’t handle a spot of moving Dean around however he wanted.

Stomach swooping from the contact, Dean felt dizzy as they reached the top of the stairs and the bedroom. Cas hefted him onto the bed and gave him a hungry look. Castiel’s eyes were dark with want and Dean felt his dick twitch in his pants.

“Clothes,” Dean breathed out, moving his hands to his flies. Cas seemed to understand what Dean was implying and started to undress as well. Dean kept getting distracted as Castiel undressed.

“I thought we were meant to be getting undressed,” Castiel teased. He was naked and half-hard as he stood beside the bed. Dean had managed to kick off his boots and pull off his jeans, but not much else.

Dean was about to say something in his defense when Cas climbed up on the bed and started pulling at the buttoning on the rest of Dean’s outfit. His hands were firm and strong and Dean wondered what he’d done with the lube he normally carried in his duffel. He breathed in Castiel’s scent, all ozone, heather and musk, making Dean’s insides tingle.

Something smooth and cold teased at Dean’s hole as Cas removed his underwear and Dean gasped. He looked down the length of his body, but couldn’t see anything until he squinted and— _Is that a tentacle?_ Dean thought to himself as a shimmering blue tentacle of light fondled him.

“Cas,” Dean said in a breathy whine and Cas frowned for a moment, fingers on the hem of Dean’s t-shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked.

Dean motioned towards where he thought the tentacle was probing at his rim and Castiel looked down. “Oh!” Castiel exclaimed and then slapped at the tentacle. Squinting, Dean watched the appendage disappear into nothing.

“What was that Cas?” Dean asked, wriggling as Cas continued to get him out of his clothes.

“Some of my grace,” Castiel explained nonchalantly, like Castiel having tentacles made of his grace was no big deal.

Dean swallowed, trying not to dwell on his hentai viewing habits. “Does your grace normally look like that?”

Castiel blushed as he finally pulled the t-shirt over Dean’s head and threw it across the room. “No, only when I’m… aroused.”

Nodding, Dean sat up on his arms and gave Castiel an assessing look. “Maybe we can, uh, try that some time. But right now,” he licked his lips, “I want just you.”

“In that case we will need lube.”

_And maybe freshening up…_ “I need to clean up. There should be some lube in my bag.”

Dean ignored the fact that Cas knew what lube was. There was no way he was going to think on that too much. Body crawling to get on with the main event, Dean slid off the bed and headed to the bathroom. He found a washcloth and cleaned himself as best he could, while he heard a triumphant cry from Cas in the next room.

When Dean came back, ready for Cas to go to town, he found Cas sprawled out on top of the comforter, hand on his dick, stroking and shaking. He had his knees bent up as he worked himself, feet curling in the comforter, bottle of lube by his feet. Dean could see sweat glistening on Castiel’s chest.

“Dean,” Castiel gasped and sat up. He gave himself a few more quick strokes and then held out his hands for Dean to come over to him. The whole image of Cas being inexperienced was disappearing with every second that they were naked around each other.

Climbing up onto the bed, Dean crawled over to Cas and was happy to be pulled down on top and then rolled onto his back. Cas tenderly kissed the line of Dean’s jaw, mouth moving down to his neck. Without warning, Cas latched onto the side of Dean’s neck and started to bite and suck, clearly intent on leaving a mark. Dean was fully hard now and bucked up towards Cas, seeking some friction for his aching cock, the pain on his neck spiking his need for more.

Castiel let off of Dean’s neck, licking the mark he’d given him and kissed his way back up to Dean’s mouth. Castiel rolled his hips downwards, delivering a sweet press of pressure that Dean had been eagerly seeking.

“What… do you… want… Dean?” Castiel asked between kisses.

That grace tendril had given Dean a couple of ideas, but what he really wanted, what he had wanted more than just about anything else was to feel Cas inside of him. The tentacle could wait for next time. And yeah, Dean already wanted there to be a next time.

“You, inside me.” Dean kissed the side of Castiel’s mouth.

Above him, Castiel groaned and kissed Dean back. “Do you mind if I use my grace a moment?”

“It’s not gonna tucker you out, is it?” Dean asked, thinking of how Castiel’s reserves were engaged in his molt.

“I just want to, uh, clean you up,” Castiel said, voice going low as his eyes turned towards Dean’s lower body.

“Oh.”

“May I?”

“S-sure.”

Castiel reached his right hand down between them and touched Dean’s abdomen. There was a cool sensation deep within Dean, one he was familiar with when Cas fixed his injuries but this was…

“There,” Castiel announced, a pleased grin on his face. “Now, I can taste you.”

Dean gave a strangled whine as Cas shifted down his body, mouth nipping at him as he moved and leaving one nipple erect, and settled between Dean’s legs. Castiel moved Dean’s legs so that his knees were hooked over Castiel’s shoulders and then he dived in.

Castiel’s warm tongue was insistent and pushed past the opening ring of muscle of Dean’s sphincter with insistent ease. The wet warmth lapped and drove, lapped and drove, making Dean’s cock leak pre-come over his stomach. Dean reached down towards his cock, but somehow Cas knew what he was about to do and slapped Dean’s hand away.

Desperate for friction and about to say something, Dean gasped as Castiel curled his hand around Dean’s leaking cock and started to stroke in time with his tongue in Dean’s ass. It was bliss.

“Fuck, Cas, Cas, Cas…” Dean chanted, thrusting into Castiel’s hand and then down onto his tongue, body chasing the pleasure Cas was offering him. With a wet sound, Castiel’s tongue popped out of Dean’s entrance and he gave a light teasing kitten lick to Dean’s rim.

Castiel shifted onto his knees, hand still pumping Dean’s cock, while his other hand reached for the bottle of lube. One handedly, Castiel dispensed lube onto his free hand, put the bottle down and then eased a finger into Dean’s ass. Dean watched through half closed eyes, drinking in the sight as the pressure inside of him went up a notch.

It took Castiel little time to add a second finger and then he started in on Dean’s prostate. The press was electrifying, making it hard for Dean to find air. He wanted to come, but not yet.

“Cas, can you… slow down?” Dean managed, opening his eyes and meeting Castiel’s.

“Of course.” Castiel gave a warm smile and pulled back a little, focusing on stretching Dean, hand still playing with Dean’s cock. “Mmmm, I think you’re ready. Do you want me to-”

“Yeah. But, go slow?” Dean returned Castiel’s smile.

Slowly, Castiel eased his fingers from Dean and stopped stroking his cock. The air shifted a little as Castiel used the hand he had had on Dean’s cock to touch himself and Dean was pretty sure he was cleaning himself up for Dean’s sake. And thinking about it, Dean really wanted the chance to make out with Cas while he was fucked so he was on board with a little more grace clean up.

Castiel helped Dean put a pillow under his hips. Once he was sure of Dean’s position, Castiel slicked himself with lube and then lined up with Dean’s hole. Dean tried not to tense as the head of Castiel’s cock pushed against his opening, and Castiel started to jerk Dean off again to try and help him relax as he slid inside. Slowly Castiel pushed in and bottomed out, fully seated within Dean. The two of them caught their breath, bodies adjusting.

Never had Dean felt so full. He’d had fooled around with a few guys, but none of them had matched up to Cas.

“Is this okay?” Castiel asked, voice rumbling with concern.

Dean nodded. “Mmm, perfect.” He waved a hand towards Cas and the angel let go of Dean’s cock, gently easing himself down so that he could bracket Dean’s head with his arms, and pretzel Dean at the same time—which surprisingly did not hurt and Dean suspected that had something to do with Castiel’s grace.

Cas laid a tender kiss across Dean’s lips and he returned it. The earlier urgency was dissipating, replaced with something far gentler and fundamental. _Why’d we wait so long?_ Dean thought for a second before Cas finally pulled a little of the way out and then pressed back in. The drag and thrust made Dean’s breath catch and he titled his head up to capture Castiel’s mouth again.

They rocked together, Castiel’s hips showing no sign of urgency as he slowly fucked Dean. The angle was just so, Castiel’s head brushing Dean’s prostate in long teasing drags. Castiel would steal Dean’s air, leaving his head spinning, but then he would do the same to Cas.

A slow warmth built inside of Dean, threatening to break away what little control he had of his emotions. _Too long_ , Dean griped in his head. And then the air in the room shifted, Dean looked past Castiel’s shoulders and whimpered into Castiel’s mouth. Not because of the pressure within him, though that was delectable, but because Castiel’s wings had materialized.

Black and gold tipped feathered wings beat in the air. A feather or two floated down to the bed and Dean was suddenly worried that the sex was too much for Cas, but then Cas started to thrust harder and deeper and all worry drained out of Dean’s body as the orgasm he had been chasing for what seemed like an eternity was clamoring to get out of him.

“Cas,” Dean moaned, breaking the kiss, “gonna, gonna-!” Dean didn’t finish what he was saying as his release crashed through him. He came, coating both his stomach and Castiel’s.

The wings above them beat hard and Cas shouted something in Enochian, body shuddering as he came. Castiel rode Dean through his orgasm and Dean started to feel overstimulated until Cas finally pulled out.

Awkwardly falling onto his side, Castiel was breathing hard and fast, catching his breath while Dean got up on jelly legs and found a fresh wash cloth to clean them up with. He returned to the room, cloth in hand, with Cas staring up at him through half lidded eyes, his wings still there. It was the middle of the afternoon, but once Dean had cleaned them both up, he climbed back into bed with Cas and allowed Cas— _My “nest mate”_ , Dean thought sleepily—to curl around him, blanketing them both with his wings.


	10. Epilogue: A nest

There had been no more wild thunderstorms for the past week and Dean had been able to make real progress on repairs to the cabin, with Castiel’s help. Cas had been dropping more and more feathers, but had kept his wings hidden for now, apparently nervous about their state and what Dean would think.

Sam had even called in with more information on molting, though had tried to dance around what Dean and Cas had most definitely been doing while up at the cabin. During their last phone call, Sam had finally admitted that he had known since forever that Dean had a thing for Cas and vice versa.

“It’s nice out today,” Dean observed, stretching out on one of the deck chairs they’d found in the garage. It was set up outside in the sun and Dean was covered in sun lotion, on Castiel’s insistence, short cut-off denim shorts the only thing he was wearing, aside from a pair of sunshades.

“Mmmm,” Castiel agreed in a sleepy murmur. His sort of humanity was kind of cute, Dean couldn’t help but admit. At the same time, he was glad that they weren’t needed on any hunts. He didn’t fancy taking Cas anywhere near anything that would need him to keep his eyes open.

They’d already done what work they’d planned to that day and that had pretty much tired Cas out. Dean had also insisted on sun lotion, but for Cas, because he just wasn’t sure if the humanity he was dealing with extended to getting sunburned and Dean wasn’t risking a cranky burned angel.

Cas was dressed in just a loose pair of worn jeans, and Dean was pretty sure that he had not put on underwear when he’d changed after they’d clocked off. And while Dean really wanted to find out about what was underneath Castiel’s jeans, Cas looked like he genuinely needed some rest.

Though Dean also wanted to get Castiel upstairs that day and not just because he needed sleep. He’d left Cas a surprise in the bedroom.

“Remember the weather when you got here?” Dean reached out and brushed his hand down Castiel’s arm, feeling him shiver. “Man, that was a pretty out there storm.”

Castiel stiffened under Dean’s arm and shifted awkwardly on his seat. “Yes… it was.”

Dean looked over at Cas, noting Castiel’s tense muscles and pursed lips. “Cas, everything okay?”

“I… I apologize for the weather upon my arrival.”

“Dude, it’s not like you could have done anything. Weather’s, weather.” Dean patted Castiel’s arm and sat back in his chair.

“You say that, however…”

Dean scooted forward and tipped his shades up so he could look at Cas. “Cas, what are you trying to say?”

“The weather, it was my fault.”

Dean looked at Cas, nonplussed.

“My wings,” Castiel shifted to meet Dean’s gaze, “it was my wings.”

“Look, I know that butterflies can like, beat their wings and cause a hurricane, or whatever, Cas. But dude, your wings aren’t that big. And like… how?”

Castiel glowered at Dean and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. In his head, he went through what he had just said. “What I mean,” Dean started, “is that your wings are big, but they’re not, let’s cause a lightning storm for over a day big.”

That still didn’t sound any better.

“I’ll have you know, my _wings_ are larger than this cabin.”

“But-”

“My _true wings_ would cause a storm that could last 40 days and 40 nights. Not that I have ever done such a thing.”

“Wait, are you saying you caused-”

“No. But I could have… Or my garrison could have.”

Dean just stared at Cas, unsure what to do with this new information. On the one hand—Cas had put him through a miserable 24 hours of weather. On the other—despite how human Cas had been acting for the past few weeks, he was still a being of unimaginable power and depth. Dean had tried imagining what the real Cas looked like and always felt like the images in his head had been too small, too inferior. To learn that Cas could change the weather was intimidating… and hot.

“Aside from the fact that I don’t want to think about the logistics of the great flood, because, dude, two of each animal was never going to work, I am kinda turned on right now.” Dean swallowed and felt the heat that was climbing across his skin and had nothing to do with the sun.

“Dean,” Castiel licked his lips and looked to Dean’s own, “surely you did not just go from talking about one of the most traumatic events in the Abrahamic faiths, to your horniess in the same breath?”

Rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, Dean lowered his eyes and muttered, “Pretty sure I just did.”

A hand grabbed Dean’s left wrist and then Castiel was dragging him from the sun chairs and into the shaded depths of the cabin. The air was cooler here, now that it was later in the day and they’d left it open.

Lips mashing together, feet tumbling over each other, the two of them dragged and pressed towards the upstairs bedroom. Dean was dizzy from the change in direction and wasn’t sure what had quite set Cas off—not that he was going to complain. Not when things were going the way they were.

They reached the top of the stairs and turned into the bedroom, Castiel stopping in front of Dean at the entrance to the room. His chest heaved and Dean couldn’t tell if the surprise was having a positive or negative effect.

Following instructions Sam had texted and called him with, Dean had rejigged the bed so that the sheets were in a circle, Castiel’s molted feathers lining its sides and glimmering in the late afternoon light. It was a nest.

Dean waited for Cas to say something, anything, but seconds turned into a minute and still Cas was ramrod straight, an immovable wall of angel.

“Cas, look, if the nest’s not right, I’ll make it better. I was following some stuff Sam had found, and like it’s my first time doing this. Not like I’ve ever been an angel’s nest mate before or molt partner and, and… I wasn’t completely sure I was doing the right things so, like, if it’s wrong—I’ll try again. I’ll-”

Dean was cut off as Castiel spun him around and started kissing him again.

“It’s… ab…solutely… perfect,” Castiel said between kisses.

And it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to deliciousirony for their amazing art. [You can check it out on Tumblr here](https://delicious-irony.tumblr.com/post/184672766993/storm).
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Pillowfort at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://www.pillowfort.social/dreamsfromthebunker), Dreamwidth at [hit_the_books](https://hit-the-books.dreamwidth.org/), Tumblr at [hitthebooksposts](https://hitthebooksposts.tumblr.com/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722362) by [deli (deliciousirony)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciousirony/pseuds/deli)




End file.
